


Lacuna

by Anonymous



Series: Every Step We Take [2]
Category: British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, One Shot, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 06:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20169532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Lacuna (n.) a blank space, a missing part.That’s what they were to each other. That thing that they didn’t know was missing. That blank space sat at a bottom of a page just waiting to be filled in.





	Lacuna

No matter how much technology changed the way that literature was being published, Richard felt that there was no greater pleasure than buying a physical book from a bookshop. Ever since he had been a child he had loved coming to London and walking up and down Charing Cross Road. As he got older the number of bookstores grew and his fascination never really stopped. Walking through the doors he could remember being just 19 and having to hold back from buying the 20 books he picked up if he wanted to pay his rent that month. The familiarity of the shop, even though it had been at least 4 years since he had been here while performing _The Crucible, _made his body work on auto-pilot as he headed to the fiction floor to start his search. 

One might think that having to read manuscripts all day for a living might be enough reading and would make the act of ‘reading for fun’ not so fun, but Rachel would disagree. If anyone asked her, she had the best job in the world. Getting paid to read and then having enough money to buy more books, it was a dream come true in her eyes. The fact that Foyles wasn’t far from where she lived either definitely benefited her slightly overboard obsession with buying new books, even if she didn’t get time to read 90% percent of what she bought. Her weekends, especially during a heatwave, consisted of heading to Foyles, buying a handful of books before getting the tube to Primrose Hill and sitting there in the sun reading. Although, on this particular day the 37 degree weather put a dampener on her plans and she chose the air-conditioned cafe at the top of the bookshop rather than the busy, humid outside. Stepping inside and breathing in the cold air, she headed up to her favourite spot to start her search.

Richard was walking up and down the A-Z of authors, picking up random books he’d heard of or read reviews about. One he picked up was so that he could get a head start as he’d be recording the audiobook in just a couple months and this weather leant itself well to reading on his new apartment’s terrace. He was looking forward to the break he had in between leaving Berlin and his next job filming The Stranger. He picked up a few more, looking over the blurbs and putting down ones that lost their appeal. He moved to his right, following the letters down when the woman next to him picked up a book he’d recently recorded for Audible and had very much enjoyed.

“It’s a great read, that one,” Richard said to the woman next to him. Rachel jumped. She lifted the copy of The Tattooist of Auschwitz.

“Really? A few of my colleagues recommended it and I’m in need of something different so I thought I’d pick it up,” Rachel replied.

“Yeah, it’s good. Obviously not the cheeriest book but it’s a beautiful story.”

“Thanks for the advice, I’m sure I’ll enjoy it. You’ve got some good books in your hand.”

“I hope so. Enjoy the book,” Richard said.

Rachel smiled at him and headed in the opposite direction, towards the A’s, looking for another book she’d had on her list for a while. After she’d grabbed the one’s she hoped to find, and didn’t allow herself to get distracted, she headed towards the section that held her greatest weakness: poetry. As an avid poet herself, Rachel loved to read poetry. She had lost count of how many poetry prints she had saved on her phone, her favourites displayed on the walls of her apartment. If she had it her way, her office with be decorated in a collage of every poem she ever loved, but she’d never have an office big enough.

She knelt down, looking for Michael Faudet’s latest book, Winter of Summers, when she noticed someone was stood beside her. She grabbed the book she was looking for and stood up, glancing at the book in his hand.

“Poems for a world gone to sh*t? Honestly one of the only ways I get through the week,” Rachel said, laughing.

“Haha, really?” Richard replied, amused and intrigued.

“It’s a surprisingly empowering collection but it’s gone some amazing poems in it. I got it for my birthday and did’t expect to love it as much as I do,” Rachel replied. “I used to keep it at work for those days when everything went tits up and I needed a laugh.”

“Well thank you, hopefully I’d enjoy this as much as I hope you enjoy the book from earlier,” Richard said.

“You’re welcome. I’ll find out on the tube home,” Rachel said, before leaving to head to the cookery books, needing to pick up a book for a friend’s housewarming party that was coming up.

Richard finished flicking through random poetry books, picking up poetry collections of poets he’d heard the names of over the past few months before deciding it was time to head upstairs to the cafe and get some work done. He paid for his books, deciding that one or two he’d kept could wait until his next visit, and started for the cafe. As he walked up the stairs, he got distracted by one of the posters on the wall and knocked shoulders with Rachel who was walking down. Saying a quick ‘sorry’ to each other, they headed towards their intended destinations. Richard was starting to this it wasn’t a coincidence that she kept bumping into him. Once in the cafe, he set up camp on one of the benches that was unoccupied, got out his laptop, put his headphones in and started working. He had a lot to do to prepare his plans for his production company he was hoping to start while working.

Rachel had finished looking around and purchased her books before heading to the cafe. It always smelt of coffee and chocolate pastries, an overwhelming scent that sent her mind racing and made her work faster. Or maybe that was just the copious amounts of caffeine she consumed while in there. She ordered her coffee, a simple cortado, heading towards the free space at the end of the bench by the window.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit down here?” Rachel asked.

Richard looked up from his laptop, having heard her muffled question through his headphones. “Look, I can give you an autograph, you can even have a picture, but I just want to get some work done in some peace,” he said, irritated and annoyed at the interruption, especially when he saw who it was.

“Um, I don’t want an autograph or a picture, thank you all the same. I mean you look vaguely familiar but I just needed to come and get some work done but it’s packed in here and this was the only space free. I’m sorry to bother you though, I’ll find somewhere else,” Rachel said, slightly embarrassed at the way he had spoken to her.

Richard looked around, a flush rising up his neck as he realised that what she was saying about the cafe being busy now was very true and that the seat opposite him was the only one he could see unoccupied. He felt ashamed at the way he had spoken to her. All she’d done was ask to sit down and he’d acted so rude and entitled. It wasn’t very often, if ever, he assumed that people knew who he was and to bite her head off was uncalled for. He snapped out of his shame as he noticed Rachel gathering her things to go.

“No! Wait. I’m sorry. You were literally just looking for somewhere and I shouldn’t have spoken like that. Of course you can sit down.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t want to bother you.”

“No, please. You wouldn’t be bothering me. I’m about to grab another coffee, would you like anything? An apology muffin, maybe?” Richard asked, laughing slightly.

“I’m good, thank you though.”

Richard went to grab his drink while Rachel sat her bags down and retrieved her laptop. She set up the program she needed that had the manuscript she was working on, flipped to the correct page in her planner/notebook and set to working on the edits, headphones in. She was so focused she didn’t even notice Richard returning to the bench.

Half an hour later, Rachel pulled out her folder of contracts and read through the one that corresponded to the manuscript she was editing, adding in any notes that might need to be changed while checking that the word-count lined up with the company’s royalty agreements. Richard looked down to grab his coffee and saw the contracts with the heading for Harper Collins.

“That looks like a lot of contracts. Are you a contracts manager at Harper Collins?” Richard asked, taking his headphones out. Rachel slipped hers out too.

“No, I’m an editor. I’m working towards this promotion. It’s an almost-year-long process but I have to prove that I’m capable of pretty much everything, from pitch to post, for two novels. Maybe a third. But while trying to do that, I also have to work with the other authors that I’ve been assigned to.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a lot of hard work. You must enjoy it, though, otherwise you wouldn’t want to put that much effort it.”

“I have the best job in the world. I get paid to read books and edit them on a daily basis, I get to travel to book conventions, meet amazing authors. Yeah it’s annoying when you read something that you know isn’t good, or even spell-checked sometimes, but they are so few and far between it’s never really an issue.”

“I understand that. As an actor, you get so many scripts come through and some of them you are hooked instantly and others you can tell haven’t been thought through well-enough and are just missing that spark that will grip the audience.”

“You’re an actor? I’m really sorry for not recognising you before,” Rachel said, not meeting his eyes.

“Yes and don’t be, I’m sorry. I never normally assume people know who I am, I like to think I’m quite humble but it’s been a crazy few weeks between leaving Berlin, barely having time to pack up some of my apartment and move back to the UK for a little bit.”

“Wow. No wonder you seemed a little stressed. And it’s ok, we all have our moments. It’s why there’s a giant bar of Galaxy in my desk at work. And home. And bedside table.” Richard laughed.

“Don’t get me wrong, like you said, I love my job. But the moving around a trying to juggle a personal life and work commitments-“

“You’d rather just be able to click your fingers and everything is sorted.” Richard was shocked at how much she understood, but he assumed their jobs were similar in some ways.

“I knew being an editor would never be 9-5 and that there was a lot of uncertainty, but it doesn’t make the reality any easier.”

Rachel stood, saying she was going to grab a coffee. Richard went with her, the idea of drinking his cold coffee not very appealing. And, if he was being honest, he enjoyed talking to her.

“So while we are in a bookshop, favourite book?” Rachel asked.

“Way to ask an easy question. I could name 100 and I’d still be missing books I love.”

“Ok, I’ll make it easier. What’s a book with the best memories?”

“Now that is easier. The book with some of the best memories has got to be The Hobbit. It’s been a book I’ve kept with me through most of my life. It was read to me as a child, it was one of the first books I read cover to cover. Surprisingly, it was one of the first plays I was in and then I got to be in the Peter Jackson films.”

“You were in the films?” Rachel asked. Richard nodded, adding who he played. “The Hobbit is one of my favourite books. I love most of Tolkien’s writing. I haven’t seen the films though. It might sound really stupid, especially to you, but I tend to not watch adaptations of books that I love. I don’t feel they ever live up.” Rachel felt embarrassed so rambled on, ignoring Richard’s amused and confused expression. “No offence, of course, I just have a really vivid imagination and if something doesn’t look the way I expected or is altered slighty-" 

“You find it kind of ruins the book you once loved,” Richard interrupted. Rachel nodded, a little surprised he knew how she felt. Now it was her turn to be shocked. “I agree. It’s why I was a little hesitant. I am always a little hesitant to agree to do anything like that. When something already has a following, it’s a daunting and admittedly intimidating task.”

They paid for their coffees, Rachel refusing to allow Richard to buy her anything. Not only had she forgiven him for the way he had spoken, she also understood that everyone has times where the stress kicks in and takes over.

“So, if you don’t watch adaptations, what do you like?” Richard asked sitting down. She responded with her favourite genres and favourite shows and films. She admitted that she wasn’t really interested in TV and films though, books and music being her favourite way to entertain herself. He was intrigued and the rapture that she spoke with. Her love of literature and her eclectic taste of music excited him and their conversation flowed easily. 

“I was supposed to see 2cellos last year but I broke my foot and couldn’t go. I was going alone and it would’ve been tricky. But I still have to see them.”

“I used to play the cello. And the flute.”

“Seriously? I used to play the piano but I haven’t played in years. It used to be at my grandparents but when they passed away we had to sell it.”

“I’ve played the piano but only briefly, my brother-“

“I’m really sorry to interrupt but the cafe and shop is closing so we’re afraid you’ll have to leave,” one of the barista’s said. Both Richard and Rachel looked at their watches and saw that it was now 21:00.

“Of course, we’re so sorry. Just give us a second to grab our things and we will leave,” Rachel said. They swiftly packed their laptops and what-not away and retreated down the stairs, both a little sad their time together was coming to an end. Stopping outside the shop, they turned to each other. Richard opened his mouth to say something when his stomach growled loudly, making Rachel laugh.

“I’m sorry, that was so rude,” Richard said.

“No, no, I’m surprised my stomach isn’t doing the same. All we’ve eaten is a couple of muffins, hardly a proper meal.” Neither one of them made a move to leave or say goodbye. “I can’t be bothered to cook, by the time I get home and set up I won’t be fucked. Do you want to grab something with me? I was thinking of grabbing something from Wrap It Up, it’s like a 10 minute walk from here.”

“Sounds good. I know I’d end up ordering food when I got home anyway,” Richard replied, smiling at the thought of getting food and getting to spend a little more time with Rachel.

The two of them headed towards the restaurant, laughing at the loud noises of the cars rivalling the noises their stomachs were making. Both of them ordered, even adding an extra side of chicken to their rice boxes and an extra wrap to make a DIY burrito. Richard offered to walk her to the tube station, claiming he wanted to make sure it was safe, even if it was barely 21:30 and still fairly light with it being summertime. Sadly, the walk to Charing Cross Station was literally a 2 minute walk as she’d said.

“Thank you for today. I may not have gotten as much work done as I’d planned but it’s been a much more enjoyable Saturday afternoon,” Rachel said.

“Yeah, it was. I really enjoyed it too,” Richard replied. Both of them were trying to hide their disappointment at the fact that they would probably never see each other again.

“Would it be ok to ask for your number? No strings attached. I really enjoyed our conversations and if you wanted if we were ever both free we could have coffee and exchange book recommendations? That is if I trust your judgement on the suggestion you gave me today,” Richard said jokingly. Rachel stayed silent. “You know what? Don’t worry. It was silly. I’m not going to be here for long at all and you already know from my complaining today alone that my personal life is crazy.”

“No, no, no. I’d love to meet up for coffee. Sorry, I guess I was kind of surprised. Normally guys are lying if they say they’ve had a nice time on a date with me. Not that this is a date. I just meant generally,” Rachel said.

“This wasn’t a date,” Richard said. Rachel looked away. “But maybe coffee could be a date?”

“Really?”

“Only if you want it to be.”

“I do. Just text me when,” Rachel said. Richard gave her his phone, texting her with a smiley face emoji so she had his number.

“Goodnight, Richard,” Rachel said, turning to walk inside the station.

“Goodnight, Rachel.” Richard got into a cab, giving his address.

How long is it socially acceptable to text someone again? An hour? 12? 24? He took out his phone.

Richard:_ So I’m in need of some book recommendations. This girl gave me one and it was awful :P_

Rachel: _How rude of her?! I have a few you might like._

Richard: _Coffee tomorrow morning?_

Rachel: _As long as it’s after 8am, I’m your girl._

Richard took his key out and headed inside his apartment._ Yeah hopefully you will be._

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second submission in a series I've started following Richard and Rachel's relationship. They will not be in chronological order (I will add a post which will be updated with a timeline; however, they do not have to be read in order). I apologise for any inconsistencies that may occur through the pieces and promise to correct them if they appear. I will update as and when I am inspired by a new idea and when I have free time. I am open to requests but please do not be offended if I do not write them/them all. I hope you enjoy this series.
> 
> As always, I intend no offence towards Richard Armitage, nor his family and friends. This is purely a work a fiction.


End file.
